Every Time He Closed His Eyes
by OSarubiO
Summary: Because "Matt, you hurt like hell" and "Matty, just come home" means very little when Mail is dead and Mihael has something left to live for. Matt wouldn't want him to give up for him, because if he gave up, how could he possibly be Mello?


**Every Time I Close My Eyes **

by ~OSarubiO

I'm so sorry, Matt.

You were never meant to die.

You were never meant to get hurt.

I was the one who was supposed to die that day.

I did this to you.

It's like a mantra, and he hears it when he shouldn't, thinks it almost constantly. Every time he comes home to find empty space in the chair Matt favored. Every time he wakes up close to tears with the redhead's name on his lips.

Every time he aches with lack of touch and whispers his name like a prayer.

Matt, Matt, Matt.

Sometimes he curses, and breaks things, sobbing and yowling at a God who was so sure of until now. He's quick with his gun. There are bullet holes in the headboard of the bed they once shared.

And sometimes, because he's calm in front of everyone else, he just closes his eyes. And every time, he hears him. Just as clearly as the first.

"Mells, it's okay. Don't cry. My skinny ass isn't worth it."

But he is worth it. He's worth more, and Mello hopes that wherever he is, he knows that.

The things he did for me don't count. Matt is more of an angel than anyone else up there, and if he's being punished for my sins I will find a way to bring Heaven down with me.

Matt, I'm sorry.

Matt, it's my fault.

Mail, don't go, don't go.

Mello sees him in his dreams. He's so very close that Mello can't fathom why he isn't back with him yet, smiling that easy crooked smile that Mello knows better than his own.

"Mells, take your time. I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here for you."

But that was a lie, wasn't it? Because he was gone, and Mello was to blame, and he can only see him now in wispy nightmares and words half-whispered against Mello's waking mind.

"Mihael, I love you. I love you so much."

And Mello loves him too and cries out as much, breaking down because loving him won't bring him back.

Sometimes, Mello can't help seeing them.

Matt's car, covered in blood.

Matt's car, riddled with bullets.

Matt, slumped to the ground.

Matt, cigarette falling limp.

Matt, blood that is stilling.

Matt, going blue in the ground.

Matt, who knew he was going to die and did it for him anyway.

Why did he have to listen?

Sometimes, Mello is bitter, and it is not God he screams at.

You could have disobeyed me, you idiot! Why couldn't you have just said no for once? Why did you have to carry it out? You fucking dolt! Bitch! You could've chickened out when you knew you would be hurt! You could've come home to me! Fuck you!

I hate you for this Matt. I hate you so much. Stop making me love you.

Mello is sure his mind is a mess.

Sure he's going crazy.

But it doesn't really matter as long as he keeps seeing Matt's face when he closes his eyes.

And keeps hearing him in the back of his head.

Because Matt, you hurt like hell and Matty, just come home means very little when Mail is dead and Mihael has something left to live for. So Mello promises that when Kira is dead and gone, he'll find a way to be with Matt again. But not a second before. Matt wouldn't want him to give up for him, because if he gave up, how could he possibly be Mello?

And it is Mello that Matt loves. He keeps reminding himself of that.

So when he finds himself dying while a church burns, of course he hears him again.

"Mells, don't. Mello, hang on! You're not supposed to meet me yet, you're not supposed to- You never give in, so open your eyes! You've done so much already! No, Mello, no!"

And then Mello is somewhere and nowhere at once, watching a church burn. He can't bring himself to cry over his own death, so he just clutches the cross at his neck and mutters curses at the ground. He closes his eyes, and he hears him again.

"Honestly, I didn't expect you so soon, Mells."

The voice is stronger this time, and Mello is confused. Perhaps death and delusions go hand in hand.

"But you were never one for doing what people would expect, were you? Mihael, open your eyes and look at me. I need to see you."

Mello shakes his head. If he opens his eyes, he'll be gone, and he doesn't know if he'll get him back. It's so strong that he can almost feel him, a touch on his shoulder.

"Mello, I think you should turn around." The voice is warm and soft in his ear, and Mello feels the heat that had left his body when Matt died flood him again, the fire and ice combination he was so used to before.

Oh.

He opens his eyes. He's scared nothing will be there.

Something is, though. Matt is. Grinning at him behind masses of red hair and silly goggles that Mello missed so much, a cigarette perched between his lips, arms opened wide.

Mello isn't quite sure what to do for a moment, but he gets over it, and he's in Matt's arms quicker than he can think about it.

"Mells, I missed you so much."

"Me too, Matty." When Mello speaks, his voice is rough and hoarse and foreign, and he's not sure how long it's been since he's last spoken.

"At least you went out with a bang, sweetie." Matt chuckles into his hair, watching the still-burning building over the blonde's head. Mello leans back and smirks at him.

"Never expect any less of me." He pulls him tighter. "Matt? I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid Mello. I wouldn't have been able to die happy unless I died for you."


End file.
